Rebellion
by UnfathomableFandoms
Summary: Not everyone is good, not everyone is bad. And there are some that walk the line. When the Ghost crew meets some Rebels that are less than ethical, they open their eyes to a world that's not so black and white.
1. Chapter 1

Ahsoka would be leading this mission, and she had brought the Clones with her. Ahsoka, ever an enigma in her plans, had told them very little, simply telling them to fly to an old Clone base, thankfully not Fort Anaxes, and to watch her back as she met with her mysterious allies. Their only warning: They would be coming back on the ship, and would work with them for a few weeks. And they weren't always…ethical.

Hera had had to listen to Kanan arguing that they would be a 'bad influence for Ezra's training" and "went against the Jedi code he was trying to teach" and would "Negate the mission: steal from the Empire, help the needy. A noble cause. Not greed for power at the cost of lives." Hera had rolled her eyes at his first argument. When they had met on Gorse, he wasn't exactly a gentleman and was far from a moral Jedi. Of course, she didn't blame him. Kanan had never shared his whole story in detail, but she knew surviving the holocaust of his people hadn't been easy for him. Hera was no stranger to unhappy memories, and the Twi'ilek had a raw history. She had been able to fill in some of the gaps, or more like the large pit of his secrets, with inferences. His master had likely been murdered, whoever they had been, and Kanan had probably run for his life. Hera was no Jedi, but at times, when Kanan would let his guard down, she could see the guilt drawing on his features, and could feel the weight it held in his mind.

Hera sighed as the _Ghost_ jerked out of hyperspace, at the exact coordinates Ahsoka had given her. A satellite, suspended in time and orbiting slowly and lazily in space waited for her. It looked abandoned, but Ahsoka, sitting in the seat Kanan usually occupied, sat forward.

"That's it!" Hera had handed Ahsoka her comm, and she spoke into it. "Rex, is the _Phantom_ ready for detachment?"

" _Ready when you are, commander."_ Rex's gruff voice responded. Hera wondered why they hadn't just used the internal comms, but she wouldn't pry.

Ahsoka stood, twirling her dual-wielding lightsabers in her hands. "You know the plan. Stay here, comm me if the Imperials come. If this is a trap," Ahsoka twirled her lightsabers again, and they fit in her palms with practiced ease.

"I'll comm you if I need help. Maybe the Padawan would like some practice with his Master." Ahsoka gave her a respectful nod with a slight smile, and Hera returned it. They weren't friends, they couldn't afford to be, but Ahsoka was certainly welcome company. The Togruta turned around, her third head-tail swinging as she opened the door, and she was gone.

Hera waited until Ahsoka, or Fulcrum, as she insisted to be called while on a mission, gave her the affirmative that they were safely on board the satellite until she set the _Ghost_ on autopilot. It began its slow orbit around the satellite. She sat back in her seat, closing her eyes and enjoying a moment of rare relaxation.

"Did you ever think," Rex said, disregarding Ahsoka's attempts to shush him, "how we're like the Separatists now? Standing up against the government," Rex puffed his chest, saying the last part with mock pride. Ahsoka didn't find it half as funny as he did.

"The Republic served the citizens. We are fighting because the Empire doesn't. Don't compare us to the Separatists, because they are the people running the Empire we're trying to defeat." Ahsoka silently willed the name Botineri out of her mind. She glanced around a corner, holding her thumb over the button that would activate her lightsabers.

The hallway was empty, and Ahsoka continued down it. Her cloak swished behind her, but the hood was held up by her montrals, successfully hiding her features. If this was a trap, she could not allow the Imperials to see her face. This place was disturbingly quiet with the Force, only giving off vague Force Signatures from the allies she was here to meet.

"I'm not saying they were right, I'm just saying that the word separatist pretty much defines us." Rex sounded as if he regretted starting the conversation in the first place.

"The word does not define us. Our actions do." Ahsoka winced at her own words; they sounded eerily similar to something she had been taught long ago, something she had rejected when she'd left the Jedi Order.

Ahsoka was no longer a Jedi, but a piece of her would always respect the code and morals that had been ingrained in her during her formative years. Her past would never truly be separate from her, something she thought Kanan needed to learn. Ahsoka sometimes worried about him. Though she wasn't attached to him, they shared some of the same ghosts. He was an ally and someone she could confide in at times, and she worried that his advice didn't go both ways.

Rex, thoroughly admonished, remained silent, falling into step behind Ahsoka with Wolfe and Gregor.

The faint Force Signature became louder as she turned the corner, and a red blaster bolt whizzed past her left lekku. The Clones were lucky enough to have ducked with almost Jedi-like speed, something left behind by their training. Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers, but no more shots came. The haze of battle cleared from her mind, and she silently cursed herself for being so blind.

Three people stood waiting for her, and a female Zeltron was twirling a blaster in her hand, smirking as she replaced it to the holster on her hip.

" _Fulcrum_ , I apologize for my hastiness. You walked right into target practice." She smirked, her blue eyes glimmering. She ignored the Clones, simply focusing on Ahsoka.

Vermillion Beryl, with her shaved head and uncreative name, had never been her favorite ally.

 _Vermillion_ was of course just the cover the Zeltron woman chose to go by, but Ahsoka found it just as orginal as a Trandoshan calling himself _Scales._ She was manipulative, and often, not so passively, but aggressively; insisted that Fulcrum was "too much of a _Jedi_ to be a revolutionary." Ahsoka had turned a blind eye to her skimming credits from her ship enough times, because despite all her shortcomings in the ethics department, Vermillion was a resourceful ally.

Behind her, a male Twi'lek stifled a laugh, his Lekku swinging. Nerra, literally named " _brother_ " in his native language, was tall and lithe, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His pale blue skin and handsome features were offset by the shining armored breastplate he wore along with the collection of weapons hanging from his belt; including a lightwhip he had kindly "kept" for a Jedi from his home planet after Order 66, not long after Ahsoka had left the Jedi Order. It was rare even for Jedi to have one, and he flaunted it with pride.

Atiniir remained silent, though his lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. He was dressed in an odd combination of a pilot's suit, very similar to Hera's, and Mandalorian armor. He was quiet when he wasn't on the battlefield, and focused the few times she had seen him fly a ship. He was no ace pilot like Hera, but he was a brutal warrior. Ahsoka suspected he had once been a member of the Death Watch, but he had never confirmed or denied her suspicions. In fact, he hardly ever talked unless it had something to do with a battle, and half of it was in Mando'a.

Ahsoka nodded, slowly lowering her hood. It was refreshingly cooler without the thick fabric surrounding her face.

Ahsoka set her jaw. "Don't mention in." She said, flicking her eyes at Vermillion with a practiced and unaffected drawl.

"So, let's go meet your _rebels_." Nerra's smooth, deep voice came out on the brink of laughter, and Ahsoka turned around to lead them to the _Phantom,_ not looking forward to being cramped in the small space with six other people.

She hoped the _Ghost_ crew, especially Zeb, Ezra, and that pesky droid, could act like the professionals she knew they could pretend to be. This group would be pulling no punches.

 **(Atiniir means "** _ **endure"**_ **in Mando'a Props to Radicalcat for being, well, rad.)**


	2. Chapter 2

" _Phantom attached_." Fulcrum's voice crackled through the _Ghost_ 's intercom, and Ezra was pulled out of his concentration. His legs were going dead beneath his weight, and he could feel the _Ghost_ humming with movement as Hera calculated the jump to hyperspace. Peeling an eye open to peek at his Master, he saw Kanan was still seated neatly across from him, eyes closed in deep meditation and his hands relaxed on his knees.

Ezra opened both eyes, cocking an ear towards the footsteps and the faint, unfamiliar voices entering the ship. He could make out the footsteps of the Clones, Ahsoka, and their new allies.

"Focus, Ezra." Kanan's eyes remained closed even as he spoke. "Look inside yourself. _Ignore distractions_. Open your mind."

Ezra huffed. Inside of him, there was blood and nerves and guts. Ezra _did not_ want to see it. What he _did_ want to see were the rebel connections Ahsoka had brought on board the _Ghost._

"And straighten your posture."

"I didn't know the Jedi Code included _etiquette_."

"Etiquette is discipline. Discipline is the Jedi way." Kanan's voice was detached, and Ezra imagined that he was somewhere in a galaxy far, far away. Maybe in a galaxy where the Empire never existed.

Ezra closed his eyes. He wished that galaxy existed.

"So, where are the _Jedi_? Meditating? Spouting useless platitudes?" Vermillion stood behind Ahsoka as they stepped out of the Phantom. Ahsoka pursed her lips. "I thought they'd be here waiting for us in the doorway- ready to pounce on the ne'er-do-wells."

"I'd say most of them are rotting in the Temple." Nerra answered shortly. He didn't even have the grace to whisper. Ahsoka clenched her fist.

"Is that where your manners went?" Rex grunted, elbowing Wolfe and Gregor like old friends sharing a joke.

Nerra didn't respond.

Ahsoka led them down the short hallway in the quarter hold of the _Ghost._ The smell of paint fumes wafted out of Sabine's closed door, but something much more powerful tugged up ahead.

"Please don't tell me I have to deal with that smell the whole time. I don't want to be high on paint fumes." Nerra held a hand over his nose, dramatically rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

"You'll get used to it then!" Sabine's muffled reply came through the cracks in the door. Ahsoka tried not to smile. Sabine reminded her of herself.

They continued down the hallway, and the tug got stronger. Kanan and Ezra must have been meditating. Ahsoka led them to the cockpit, where Hera was relaxing as the _Ghost_ continued its slow, auto piloted path around the abandoned satellite.

"Shouldn't your ace pilot be calculating the jump to hyperspeed?" Vermillion drawled, jutting out a hip. "Perhaps your confidence in your pilot was misplaced, Ahsoka."

With a jerk of Hera's arm, the stars elongated around them, and the satellite was replaced with the swirling tunnel of hyperspace.

The Twi'lek lifted an arm and activated the internal comms. "All Specters meet in the lounge. Time to meet our new allies." Hera swiveled her chair to face them, and stood up.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Hera bobbed her head to each of the allies, a soft smile spreading across her face when she saw Nerra. Nerra did not return the gesture.

"Hera will stay on the Ghost _._ Ahsoka will be in the cloud cover in the _Phantom,_ engaging air assaults. Ahsoka, be ready to pick Sabine, Zeb, Ezra and I up on the roof."

Kanan sat before the holograph of the Imperial Security Station on Lothal. It was tall, with imposing spires and a domed roof in the center. Ezra sat beside him, tapping his feet and listening intently. Zeb leaned against the wall behind him, and the others stood by the far wall. Chopper was pacing circles around the room, testily bumping into their new allies' legs.

Vermillion growled as he ran his tread over the toe of her spiked boots and roughly kicked the droid away. "I hope you all aren't as _defective_ as your droid?" She hissed loudly.

Chopper let out a whirl of insulting and amused binary, having gotten the reaction he was pushing for- and retreated to the space between Ezra and Zeb.

"Chop just likes to know who he's working with." Ezra supplies, shooting the droid a sidelong glance. They had grown to tolerate each other, which was certainly a lot of progress for them. "He's just sniffing you out. Wants to see what you're made of."

The Zeltron's eyes, a blue that could compete with Ezra's, flashed dangerously, and Ezra wiped the smug smile off his face.

"Well, I would be _happy_ to show the droid what _It_ is made of." She snapped.

Ezra, Sabine and Zeb frowned at the misuse of pronoun, and Chopper buzzed irritably, threateningly rolling towards Vermillion. Sabine rested a hand on his dome, and he shuddered, finally stopping.

Kanan rubbed his eyes. A headache was blooming in the back of his skull.

"The Clones," Every time Kanan looked at them, a sharp spike of fear and hatred twisted in his gut. The face they wore had haunted his memories for years. _"You_ three will be a diversion on the ground. Attack here. Try to bomb the hangar here, Atiniir, right?" Atiniir nodded above his crossed arms.

"This plan is already doomed." Nerra flicked one lekku over his shoulder, and Hera huffed as if he had made a very rude gesture. Twi'leks had a way of speaking without words, with simply the movement of their head-tails.

"Sabine and Zeb will enter here and engage the Imperials. Sabine, you disable the elevators and block these hallways. There's a staircase here. This will lead you to the roof, where you will meet Ezra and I. Ahsoka will pick us up on the _Phantom._ Hera will pick up the Clones, Vermillion, Atiniir, and Nerra. Ahsoka will attach to the _Ghost,_ and we'll take off."

'Ezra will hack into the security system and download the files on this chip. I'll cover him."

"The brat's what, fourteen? I doubt he has a brain behind that baby face. How is he supposed to hack into the Imperial Security System?" Vermillion crossed her arms, glancing down her nose at Ezra. Zeb choked on his own laughter.

"You're talking about a Jedi Padawan, skilled con-artist and a _master_ pickpocket." Ezra shot back smartly, his tone proud. He sniffed, eyeing the outlaws' heavily laden weapons belts as if she were unimpressed. "I could have you picked clean before you can say ' _karabast'_."

Vermillion smiled sourly, almost as if his outburst had earned him some respect. "Kid, I know all the tricks. Your sad excuse for a master couldn't teach you a single mind trick-"

Ezra shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the holotable. The holograph wavered. "Kanan is a _Master_ Jedi!" Kanan shook his head. The kid didn't know what he was talking about. He put his hand on his sleeve, tugging him to sit back down beside him. Ezra scowled, brushing his hand off, but he remained seated.

"There's a reason all the Jedi are dead, Kid," Nerra sneered, folding his arms tightly against his chest.

"Nerra." Ahsoka cut in sharply, as if she were scolding a child. She narrowed her eyes, and the Twi'lek man averted his eyes.

"At this rate we'll all be dead if you people don't _shut up_ ," Sabine threw her hand up in the air.

"K'uur! I agree with the Mando'ad girl." Atiniir spoke for the first time, heavily accented. He held his helmet in the crook of his arm, and his face was exposed. His head was bald, and a scar curved under his left eye and up his forehead. He must have been at least forty, with tanned, wrinkled skin like leather.

Kanan blinked. He had never learned Mando'a, and sincerely hoped Atiniir didn't just curse them out. Sabine nodded bobbed her head, flicking her bangs out of her eyes.

"He said hush." Sabine smirked. "Finally someone says it."

Kanan stood. "We will go over the plan again tomorrow before we attack. Right now, settle yourselves in." Kanan opened the door.

Nerra tugged on his shoulder. "Shouldn't we go now? We have the cover of night! They won't see us coming!"

Ahsoka stepped forward. "Which is exactly why the Empire increases security at night. They might be pompous, but they're not all stupid. Trust me, I've done my research."

Vermillion sighed, picking at her nails. "And I thought this would be fun. Now I have to deal with three Jedi and a bunch of cowards. Come on! They're _Stormtroopers._ Their aim is uglier than any Hutt I've seen."

Gregor snorted.

"The Empire has been targeting us, and they're finding new weapons to throw at us. I don't think any of you would want to fight a Sith tonight. If I can prevent unnecessary casualties by stalling the mission, it's a risk I'm willing to make." Kanan was not willing to rush in at night at the cost of lives.

 _And you were willing to run while your Master bled?_ Kanan clenched a fist. Fourteen years. It had been over fourteen years and he was still dwelling on the past.

Vermillion's mouth twisted, eyeing his stiff fist. "I was always told you Jedi were too righteous for your own good." Her voice was teasing, velvety and seductive. Kanan wished he could punch her in the face. Kanan relaxed his hand, and it lay flat on his thigh. He glanced at Hera, and she gave him a sympathetic smile. Kanan sighed.

"I'm going to meditate." Kanan walked out the door, and he could hear Nerra and Vermillion's muffled sniggers. Ezra followed, shooting cold looks over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't allow them to ruffle you. You need to learn discipline, you need to learn to pick your battles. The _right_ battles." Kanan folded his arms.

Ezra sat on Kanan's bunk, looking up through his bangs. "But they were insulting you! They were _insulting_ the _Jedi!"_

Kanan cocked his brow at him, smiling bitterly. "This is not the first- or last time I've heard such ideals, Ezra."

Ezra scowled and scuffed his foot against the floor grating.


End file.
